Our Lives Suck
by zoey21q
Summary: They sat on their couch, gnawing their way irately through a bag of red licorice. "What's wrong with us?" he asked. And without skipping a beat she replied, "I'm passive-aggressive  you're emotionally distant."   "Oh. Okay," he said, as if expecting it.


The two sat on the couch in their darkened living room silently, gnawing their way irately through a bag of red licorice. They moved almost in unison, with sharp, aggravated actions: one would grab a stick of licorice, taking a heated bite off the end, while the other flipped absentmindedly through television channels…then they'd switch, tossing the remote, sliding the bag across the couch, and continuing the familiar pattern.

Their conversation consisted of short bursts like, "I hate this show," "we need to keep more candy in this house," and "I hate my life." Their phones sat on the coffee table in front of them, eerily and mockingly silent.

"I win," the girl said, pulling out the final piece of candy, balling up the bag and throwing it onto the table uncaringly.

"Congratulations," he sighed, propping his head up into his hand and leaning it on the arm of the couch. "Now what?"

"I honestly don't know. We've never made it through a whole bag before." She pushed a strand of curly black hair out of her eyes, and watched her brother do the same.

"We've never had a problem at the same time." He yawned. "What time is it?"

She glanced at her phone. "About two-thirty in the morning." She groaned, then. "We've been sitting here for four hours, we've finished off an _entire bag_ of candy, and we're still moping!" She threw her hands up and slumped further into the couch. "Our lives suck."

There was a moment of silence when she thought he fell asleep.

"Del?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, what?" she snapped.

"What's wrong with us?"

Without skipping a beat, she answered, "I'm passive-aggressive and you're emotionally distant." She sighed and crossed her arms across her chest. "But other than that, we're just peachy."

"Oh. Okay," he said, like it was nothing less than what he was expecting.

Then there was more sleep-like silence.

"Del?" he asked again, less quietly.

"What?" She tilted her head and shot him a glare out of the corner of her eye.

"Is either of us ever going to be able to have a relationship?" He reached morosely for his phone. "I mean one without any drama?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you this kind of stuff, 'big brother'?" She emphasized the last words with air-quotes, smiling sarcastically at the thought of him giving her any kind of advice.

"Yeah, right." He put her thoughts to words. "Hey, when did Mom and Dad get back?" he asked, noticing his father's coat on its hanger by the door.

"Eh, somewhere between eleven and eleven-thirty. All I heard is that the banquet was a bust. I was still crying and you were threatening to start," she chuckled. "So they threw the bag of licorice at us and went to bed."

"Are we really that predictable?" He furrowed his brow and stared at his phone again.

"In a word, yes." She grabbed the remote from her brother's hands and flipped a few channels. "_Up _is on ABC Family. Sound good?"

"Sure. No romance," he said cynically. "The wife dies in the first seven minutes."

After a contemplating pause, she said finally, "I kinda like you dark. It's a nice change from that 'Dapper-Dan' fellow you always try to be."

He blew a low '_pfft_' through his teeth, and shot her a look that read somewhere between 'shut-the-fudge-up' and 'you're-totally-right.'

They were quiet for a while, watching the movie uninterestedly, only sighing here and there or laughing briefly at the program's stupid jokes.

"What exactly happened?" he finally asked at the commercial.

"What do you mean?" she said, glancing at her phone.

"I thought you liked this guy. I thought you two were going strong."

"He and I _were_ going strong. So were he and Jackie, and he and Liz, and he and Tanya." She fiddled with her hair again. "That's what you get for dating a football guy."

"Ouch," was all he could muster.

"Your turn," she finally said. "What exactly happened with you? Any more serenades at the shopping mall?"

Once again he glared at her, but this time the meaning was clear as day: 'don't-even-go-there.'

"No!" he said indignantly.

"Then what?"

"Pav died today," he sighed, hanging his head.

"Okay," she began. "I know you liked that bird and stuff—heck, _I _liked that bird—but we're talking about relationships here, and you're starting to freak me out."

"Shut up and let me finish," he snarled.

"Fine, fine. So Pav died…?" She turned to face him, trying to look interested.

"Well, remember the new kid I told you about?" His eyes were distant.

"Yeah…Kevin or something, right?"

"Kurt," he said firmly, still not looking at her.

"Right, right, Kurt…Oh! Did you feed him to the sharks for killing the bird?" A menacingly excited smile spread across her face.

"Dude," he said flatly, tilting his head and looking at her square in the eyes.

"Fine! So what about this Kurt fellow?"

"We were all there in the meeting room today, getting ready for Regionals, wondering where he was…when the doors opened…and in he walks…" he trailed off, lost in thought.

"And he walked in…?" she repeated, trying to rouse his thoughts.

"And…and he walked in and he was _crying"_ he squeezed his eyes shut, as if saying the words pained him. "And…I don't know if I've ever felt that bad for someone in my entire life…I just—I… I couldn't stand to see him so sad."

She smiled wearily.

"You're not supposed to smile at that!" he whined. "You're supposed to go 'aww!' or do whatever sappy girly thing you people do!"

"Aw," she said half-heartedly. "Now continue."

He sighed. "And then…and then he started _singing"_ he sighed the word, closing his eyes again."And it was like…" He held his hands in the air, as if waiting to catch the right words should they fall from the sky. "…It was like nothing I've ever heard before."

She gave him a knowing look. "You know the next question I'm going to ask." She crossed her arms and stared him down, waiting for his reply.

"Yeah, I do," he said begrudgingly.

"Well…?" She raised her eyebrows in expectation.

"…Yes," he said quickly, bracing himself for his sisters reaction.

"THEN GO FOR IT YOU _BOZO_!" she screamed, throwing a pillow at him.

"Del, be reasonable, I just can't—!"

"Yes—you—can!" she hollered between continuing to wallop her brother. "I'm so sick of your sulking around! We need to _get_ you some!"

"DEL!" he screamed, grabbing the pillow and staring at her aghast.

"Fine, fine, we'll work on that this summer…"

"No we wo—!"

"The point is," she cut him off. "That you have a golden opportunity hanging in front of you and you're too consumed with self-pity to realize it!"

"I am not self-pitying."

"Yes, you are."

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Anyway…" She diverted the conversation. "I can tell that you like him. I can tell that you like him _a lot._ Even if you can't."

"And who says he likes me?" he answered slowly, darkly.

"Oh, for the love of all things holy, would you stop being so freakin modest!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Let's see," she began, rolling her eyes. "You lead the Warblers," she counted on her fingers as she rattled on. "You look like a freakin' _Abercrombie and Fitch model_; you'll probably get accepted to Harvard and Yale and Princeton but blow it off for some kind of art school somewhere—which I would totally support, by the way," she gave him a kind smile. "You play like _seven_ different instruments; you do community frickin' service, and somehow, your head is _still_ of normal size." She took a breath. "Everyone either wants to date you or be you, and if this Kurt guy doesn't, then he's _obviously_ straight."

He just blinked at her.

"My point made." She slouched back into the couch. "Final couple questions though:"

"Yeah?" he said, dazed.

"Is he cute?"

"I suppose," he said blushing

"What'd he sing?"

"Blackbird…" he sighed.

"Oh, God! A cute Beatles' fan! If you don't grab him up fast, I will!" She clasped her hands under her chin and went limp, dramatically laying over the armrest.

"You're certainly feeling better."

"Well," she said, sitting up quickly. "You're happy, I'm happy." She sighed. "And besides, there are plenty of less jack-assy fish in the sea…" She smiled slyly. "And you go to an all-boys' school." She stood and stretched.

"No! I refuse to set you up with any of my friends."

"Fine!" she said finally. "I'm going to bed." She started down the hall. "Oh, but if you see Thad anytime soon, tell him I said hi…and that he's far too kind."

"Ha, ha, ha, very funny. You're _real_ smooth…." He laughed sarcastically.

"Weird. That's what he said the other day." As her brother's eyes grew wide with confusion and something like anger, she dashed around the corner with a quick 'good night' and fell into bed, tired, but happy.

**~X~**

The next day, her brother came home from school late, almost gliding through the door, humming a light tune and smiling.

He swept into the living room and fell onto the couch absentmindedly.

"Hey," she said as she came around the corner, making him jump.

"Hey," he said, panting, but still smiling.

"I like that face. That's the 'my-sister-was-so-right' face."

"That's because my sister was so right." He patted the couch next to him, and she sat down, quickly turning to face him.

"Was it everything this fifteen year old girl could ever imagine?" she crooned. "Did you like, profess your love in front of the whole school or something romantic like that?"

"No," he said flatly, a euphoric grin still tugging at the corners of his mouth. "He was bedazzling Pav's coffin." He scrunched his nose as he said this and looked off into space, smirking still. "And I just walked in and…" He stuck out a hand as if to say, 'and that's all folks!'

"Awwwww!" she squealed.

"See! Now that is an appropriate response!"

They sat there smiling for a second.

"One last question, I promise."

"Okay…" he said dreamily.

She giggled a little. "Did ya kiss him?" she said in a very singsong tone.

He coughed. "What do you think came after the 'just walked in and…'?"

She smiled. "One more question now."

"What?"

"Is he a _good_ kisser?"

He blushed. "Don't you have homework or something?"

"That's totally a yes." She stood and took a step towards her room. "I had a pretty good day, too."

"Oh yeah?"

"Ian asked me out." She smiled. "Normal, average, nice Ian."

"That sounds fantastic."

"It is." She rounded the corner. "Happy homeworking!" she called over her shoulder.

"Yeah…" he said, picking up his phone.

**So I was inspired by a whole bunch of Blaine Sister stories, and this just kind of happened. I'm not totally satisfied with it, but I hope you liked it! Reviews, signed or anonymous, are always welcome.**


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